


Child of the Sky

by Thanatopsiturvy



Series: A Dunmer's Guide to Dealing with Bards [3]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Aerik Havardr OC, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon Universe, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Nilandur OC, No Romance, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-10 18:41:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20856449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thanatopsiturvy/pseuds/Thanatopsiturvy
Summary: Various adventures, lessons, and maybe even some quiet moments between a father and his son.(Filled prompts from OCtober onr/FanFiction!)





	1. The Hike

"Just over this hill," Aerik panted, pulling his pack up roughly, readjusting the straps. Nilandur felt sweat beading along his hairline, his loose linen shirt sticking to his mid back. The hike was supposed to have only taken a half hour. Two hours later they'd passed the same tree three times before Aerik zapped it with a lightning bolt. They'd passed its charred remains a fourth time. 

Father-son bonding. Teldryn had suggested it. Nilandur had enthusiastically agreed. Aerik, on the other hand, had been skeptical.

"I just don't wanna be forced into these kinds of things," he'd argued. "Just let it happen naturally. I'm a grown man, not some kid you take on a walk. Besides, we get along fine." Nilandur had bitten his tongue against a response, but in the end Teldryn was the one who got Aerik to bend. As he always did. 

So here they were, hiking. And it had been miserable thus far.

"If you'd like, Aerik, I have a spell that can…"

"Nope!" Aerik grinned over his shoulder, the humor not quite reaching his eyes. "No spells! Because I know where we are now. It's fine." He stopped in the middle of the clearing, swinging his pack off his shoulders and setting it heavily at his feet. He pulled out a well-worn journal, fumbling with the loose map that was tucked between the first few pages before roughly opening it up, tearing an edge in his haste. Nilandur sighed, moving to sit down on a mushroom covered log. 

"Yep, uh huh…" Aerik mused aloud. "We're close to Helgen. Well, what's left of it. So, if we just keep going due west we'll–" 

A scream ripped through the woods, startling the birds from the trees. Nilandur leapt to his feet, casting an armor spell out of habit as Aerik dropped the map and immediately unsheathed the swords strapped to his back. They both stood motionless for a long moment, barely breathing, just listening. A muffled yelp in the distance spurred Aerik into a sprint, rocketing towards the source of the noise.

"Aerik!" Nilandur yelled after him, stumbling forward as he moved to scoop up the fallen map and journal, shoving them roughly into Aerik's pack before swinging it over his shoulder and running after his son. 

They eventually stumbled upon the mouth of a cave, the ground blood-streaked and rough, kicked about as if there had been a scuffle. Aerik growled under his breath and dove into the cave, Nilandur scrambling after him, casting a muffle spell as an afterthought. The snaking tunnel soon opened up into a larger cavern, light streaming through a jagged opening at the height of the ceiling. 

“Mara have mercy,” Nilandur gasped, immediately dropping Aerik’s pack and drawing as much magicka into his arms as he could manage. In the center of the cavern stood five necromancers, a young woman spread out across a stone table, thrashing and wailing. 

“Hey!” Aerik yelled, his voice echoing off the damp walls of the cave. The hooded figures jerked their heads in his direction. “Party’s over.”

The sound or armor spells echoed through the cavern as the necromancers sprinted towards them.    
“Aerik!” Nilandur cried out. “I’m going to help the girl. Can you take them?” Nilandur’s question was answered by a thunderous Shout, three of the five necromancers toppling backwards as Aerik charged towards them with a Nordic battle cry. 

“Right. Alright then,” Nilandur said to himself, scuttling down the jagged slope of rock and sprinting lightly over towards the woman on the table. She squirmed against her shackles, grunting and growling like an animal in a cage, a righteous fury alight in her eyes. At first Nilandur thought her face was streaked with blood, but quickly realized it was war paint. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, threading strands of magicka around the manacles that bound her to the table, quickly dissolving them. 

“Divines bless you,” she gasped in a thick accent, wrenching her hands and ankles free. “Do you have a weapon I can use?” 

“Ah…” Nilandur looked around helplessly. “I’m-”

“Nevermind.” The woman leapt from the table, running towards Aerik as he continued to battle the remaining necromancers. Nilandur could only watch, arms hanging limply at his sides as the woman hoisted a large rock against her hips, swinging it fully in a circle once before bashing it into one of the mage’s heads. He heard Aerik let out a joyous laugh followed by another tremendous Shout, sending the final necromancers careening into the wall of the cave with a sickening crunch. Nilandur cringed, looking away. 

He smoothed out the front of his robe, sighing heavily before turning to walk towards his son and the recently freed woman. 

“I owe you my life, Dragonborn.” She shook Aerik’s hand firmly, turning towards Nilandur with a wide smile. He took her hand, jarred by how roughly she shook it. 

“Of course, my dear,” he offered with a gentle smile. 

“You look like a Reachmen,” Aerik pointed out, and Nilandur only just then noticed how little she was wearing - mere animal pelts, a crown of antlers on her head. 

“That I am,” she said proudly, thumping a fist against her chest.

“What are you doing this far east?” Aerik pressed, sheathing his swords. 

“That’s my business.” She averted her eyes, straightening her posture. “But you have my eternal gratitude.” 

“Fair enough. Safe travels,” Aerik offered, clasping her arm one last time before she sprinted out of the cave. He turned to Nilandur, smiling. 

“Hey, you grabbed my pack. Thanks.” 

“Yes, well, you scampered off without giving it a second glance.” Nilandur handed it to him with a chuckle. Aerik just shrugged, shouldering it as they walked out of the cave together. They made their way through the thickened woods in silence before stumbling upon the main path, a rickety signpost ahead pointing them in the proper direction towards Whiterun. 

“What do you know?” Aerik laughed, clapping Nilandur on the shoulder. “It was just good luck that we got lost. So that we could save someone.” 

“So you admit we were lost then?” Nilandur couldn’t help but ask, laughing loudly at the look Aerik gave him. 

“Oh, alright then. Just see if I take you on any more hikes.” 

“I believe this will tide me over for quite a while, actually.” Nilandur’s heart warmed at the smile he received from his son, taking a deep breath and looking up at the swaying pine trees above them, feeling something akin to pride swelling within his chest. 


	2. Dungeons and Dragonborns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This little scene takes place in the Skyrim Modern AU (that I swear we'll stop teasing and actually post here soon). 
> 
> Of course Nilandur and Teldryn get along swimmingly in the canon story - I would certainly consider them close friends by the end of Invictus - but in the AU things are just a little... _different._
> 
> Nadine belongs to [raunchyandpaunchy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raunchyandpaunchy), and Rhiannon belongs to [FourCatProductions](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FourCatProductions)!

“So what’s the difference between a class and a race?” Nilandur, held the handbook at arms length, the small, rectangular spectacles perched on the end of his nose. 

“Class is like warrior, thief, mage… y’know. Kind of like the birthsigns.” Aerik reached over and flipped to the next page for him, tapping on the list. “And race is race. Elf, human, orc, et cetera. You’re overthinking this, Nil.” 

“It’s an awful lot of rules…” 

“And math,” Teldryn added. He was sitting on the opposite side of the table and squinting down at the sheet in front of him, gently rolling a twenty-sided die between his fingers. Nilandur glanced up over the top of his glasses. He wasn’t a fan of his son’s new…  _ boyfriend _ , though it was a stretch to call the mer such a thing considering his age. But Aerik seemed so happy. And Nilandur wasn’t about to complain. He counted himself extremely lucky to have been invited to game night at all. They were playing something called “Dungeons and Dragonborns”, a role-playing game that mimicked the adventures of Tamriel’s greatest heroes. Nilandur didn’t quite see the appeal, but was willing to give it a go. Try something new. 

“Don’t forget the fantasy races!” Nadine piped up, brandishing her player sheet. “I’m playing a Dwemer Bard!” 

“I feel like long-dead races don’t count as ‘fantasy’,” Rhiannon murmured, chewing on the tip of her pencil eraser. “So Clerics get, how many spell slots at level one?” 

“Three cantrips, and two first level spells,” Aerik replied without even looking at the book. “Why are you playing what you practically are in real life?”

“I’m a registered healer, not a divine warrior,” she corrected. “There’s definitely a huge difference.” 

“I was thinking Cleric as well.” Nilandur smiled fondly at Rhiannon, who returned the gesture, cheeks dimpling. Out of all of Aerik’s friends and roommates, she was certainly his favorite - soft-spoken, thoughtful, kind. He wished Aerik could find someone more like her to date. 

“What are you thinking, Tel?” Aerik asked, walking around the table and sliding across the long bench to bump up against Teldryn’s shoulder. 

“A monk. Leaning towards human.” 

“Ah, punchy magic. I love it.” He grinned and leaned in to peck Teldryn on the cheek. Nilandur looked back down at his own sheet, pursing his lips. He didn’t want to be predictable, and a healer would most certainly be predictable. No, he needed to choose something that would catch Aerik off guard, show him that Nilandur could be fun. 

“I’m going to be a Barbarian,” Nilandur announced seemingly out of nowhere. Everyone looked up with various expressions of shock and disbelief. 

“Really?” Aerik quirked a brow. “What race?” Nilandur chewed the inside of his cheek, trying to think fast. Everyone was looking at him. Orc would be too on-the-nose, if not a little racist. He needed something that would catch them off guard again.

“Riekling.”

There was a long stretch of silence and Nilandur thought he’d screwed up irrevocably, then Teldryn started to laugh. It was a low, rough laugh, almost sinister, then Aerik joined in, loud and melodic, followed by a giggle-snort from Nadine. Rhiannon continued to look confused. 

“That’s going to be quite interesting,” Teldryn mused, still chuckling. 

“Yeah, that’s kind of awesome, Nil. Tiny little barbarian dealing tons of damage? That’s super cool.” Aerik was beaming at him, eyes bright and enthusiastic, and Nilandur felt as though he’d just won a prize. He chuckled nervously and tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear, excited to play this silly little game after all. 


End file.
